


I and My Shadow

by startwithsparks



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Blood, Child Murder, Dubious Consent, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 14:05:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startwithsparks/pseuds/startwithsparks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of Mad Danelle's giant bats is a well-known legend throughout Westeros, but even the most horrific tales carry a grain of truth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I and My Shadow

She stood at the balcony, her hands curled tight around the chilly iron rail, and watched as slivers of black flew through the inky night sky. Thin wisps of clouds stretched across the stars, casting the world in thick shadows, the wind was still, her dressing gown didn't so much as shiver around her legs. It was a perfect night. As the black shapes drew nearer to the melted towers of Harrenhal, their wings like leather slapping against the sky, she released her hold on the rail and slowly turned back towards the fire-lit room behind her.

As she crossed the threshold back into the tower, she loosened the tie around her waist and let the silk slip from her shoulders to pool on the floor behind her. The fire licked warm against her bare skin, sliding beneath her breasts and along her round hips. Near the fireplace - so large a grown man could stand inside it - was a round bath carved from marble, and a young woman hurriedly filling it. She said nothing to Danelle, nor did she raise her gaze to look on her mistress. The servants were all as terrified of her as the smallfolk who lived around the blackened ruins of Harrenhal. She knew the whispers, the rumors, but if she could not have their respect as a woman, she would have their fear.

Some said she ate children, that she had devoured her own out of jealousy that they may one day take Harrenhal from her. And now, like demons on moonless nights, she sent her pets to fetch more flesh for her table. If the smallfolk were to be believed, she had already killed two husbands and tortured countless servants as well. Soon, they said, she would be coming for them - their children, their nubile daughters - to tear their throats out and drink their blood. It made her smile to think of how imaginative people could be.

It wasn't _quite_ as terrible as all that... Though, at times, she felt a reputation should be earned, and if people already thought she was doing such unspeakable things, she may as well prove her right. The thought made her laugh softly, startling the young girl, as she skimmed her fingers across the top of the water. Steam rose like thin ghosts off the surface, and the heat bit into her skin, just as she liked it.

"Go," she said, shooing the girl away from the bath. "They will have returned by now."

The girl gave an uneasy look, staring at the bucket clutched to her narrow body, and nodded. She quickly shuffled away, head down, for the higher towers where Danelle's bats nested. The only torture she inflicted on her servants was making them implicit in her dirty deeds, but there was satisfaction in seeing horror and distress in their averted gazes. It was easier to think about that than to remember... But one's eyes never truly shut to the truth.

Banishing the memory, she stepped into the bath, facing the open doors to the balcony and the moonless night sky. She twist her hair between her hands and dragged it over her shoulder, the ends already dampened to a bloody red. She tucked her knees up and slipped down into the water until it flooded over her shoulders and kissed her neck. Her hair floated like red serpents on the surface, even as she sunk below the water and let it consume her. She braced her hands against the bath's curved sides and pressed deeper until her lungs ached for air. Even then she pushed a little further, until her muscles tensed and trembled. She rose from the water with a gasp, skin flushed and red, hair sticking to her breasts and shoulders. Her heart raced, but her body tingled with the faint fingers of excitement. Danelle ran her fingers through her hair and pushed it over her shoulders, sticking in tendrils to her back.

She leaned back against the side of the bath and draped her arms along the lip, her toes touching the other side. She arched as the heat sunk into her muscles and soothed her body, her flesh opening to the warmth that surrounded her. She dozed there for a while, lulled by the crackling fire and stillness of the water. It was only when the door grated against the flags and the soft pattering of soles stirred her attention.

Danelle glanced back, the girl holding the bucket carefully, thick red sloshing against the sides. She could smell the metallic tang across the room, and slowly pushed herself up to stand in the bath. The girl set the bucket down next to the bath, and fetched a small, tiered stool from near the fireplace. Even standing on the same ground, Danelle towered over the girl by a good head. She picked up the bucket again and climbed onto the stool, carefully steadying herself before she raised the bucket over her mistress' head. Danelle tipped her head back, her hair sliding wet along her backside, and closed her eyes.

The blood was still warm, thick, a vaguely bluish-red now. It smelled almost sweet as it poured down her face and shoulders, then ran in heavy rivers along her breasts and stomach. She turned and dropped her head forward, hands sliding along her body to spread the warmth into her skin, as the girl poured the last dregs onto her back and buttocks. The last few drops trickled into the water, staining it a light pink. She heard the girl step down from the stool and lower the bucket to the ground, eager to be excused. But Danelle merely turned to face her again, a wicked smirk playing across her full lips.

She reached out and grasped the girl by the chin, blood smearing her delicate skin, and swiped her thumb across the girl's lower lip. She trembled and Danelle's smirk deepened. She leaned down licked the blood from the girl's mouth, drinking in a startled gasp with it. She pushed the girl's face away violently and waved her hand to dismiss her, laughing as the girl nearly tripped over the bucket in her attempt to escape from the room.

Once the door had closed behind her, Danelle turned towards the balcony again and ran her hands through her hair. She moved down her neck and chest, sliding her long fingers beneath her breasts and along the curve of her waist. Her hands didn't neglect an inch of skin as they worked the blood across her body. She even propped her legs, one at a time, against the side of the bath and slipped her fingers between her toes and along the soles of her feet until they too were coated in red. Licking her fingers, Danelle stretched as the blood seeped deeper into her flesh, leaving it paler and softer than it was before, her hair in lush copper curls.


End file.
